


Goodnight, Sweet Prince

by joufancyhuh



Series: Fereldan Royalty [5]
Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Angst, F/M, FriendShip Week, Nonwarden cousland
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-13
Updated: 2018-02-13
Packaged: 2019-03-17 22:26:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13668585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/joufancyhuh/pseuds/joufancyhuh
Summary: The King and Queen of Ferelden bury their dearest friend.





	Goodnight, Sweet Prince

**Author's Note:**

> Friendship Week: But Keep The Old.
> 
> This one's going to hurt. I cried writing it. I cry every time I think about it. Even just thinking of titles. So yeah, not just hurting you.

The funeral was a private gathering in the castle gardens. Alistair wished a hero's funeral, to add honour-guards, swords, flags, the whole ordeal. But those ceremonies didn’t allow for personal grief, and Idrina wanted her seclusion. She didn’t desire the need to hold a brave face, not when her pain cut deep.

In the end, the funeral consisted of Alistair, the servant who dug the hole, and herself. Some of the other staff lingered in the background, uninvited but wishing to pay their respects after royalty left their post.

They all loved Fenn.

Alistair stood with his arm around her shoulder, his face a stone wall that enabled her to crumble before him, her expression twisted in anguish as she sobbed.

He already wept; he was the one who discovered Fenn on their bedroom floor, the mabari’s chest still from his passing. Her husband, the King of Ferelden, cradled the lifeless dog to him and cried as if it were his own child, and Idrina became the stone that held his grief. 

Alistair’s love rivaled her own for her long-term faithful companion, her best friend since her youth. Fenn was family. He was her battle-mate, no one quicker to her side on the field. No one she trusted more at her back. 

But he aged, as all things living tended to do. His aging differed from her own, streaks of silver developing at her temples. No, his eyes clouded, causing him to bump into doorways and tables as he moved about the castle. And he limped, unexplained, at times. She carried him outside on his worst days to do his business, when he ailed too much to take himself out.

And by the end, he stopped eating.

She begged with him, pleaded as she laid by his side, petting his fur while she prayed to the Maker for another day, another week, another month and another year of him.

_Just let him keep breathing, please._

“Do you want to say a few words?”

Alistair hugged her shoulder before letting go to stick the sword in the ground that would forever mark Fenn’s grave. He waited, patient eyes to Idrina’s war-torn face as she stared, sullen, at the overturned lump of dirt that so poorly represented who Fenn was to her.

He survived Howe's betrayal with her. Together, they tore through darkspawn. Bandits. Demons. Blood mages and High Dragons. How cruel, to survive so much only to be felled by an enemy such as time. 

Hesitant, she moved forward, taking Alistair’ outstretched hand as she resumed her place by his side. She stooped to lay her rose over the grave, her tears staining the dirt around it.

“What can I say about a dog that has accomplished more than the average person? Fenn is… was extraordinary.” She wiped at the tears already streaming down her cheeks. She glanced up to Alistair’s grim face. “I can’t-”

“It’s okay.” Alistair ran a hand down her back before stepping forward once more. To no one in particular, perhaps to just abate her desire for something concrete to send Fenn into the Fade with, Alistair continued where her speech left off.

“Fenn was a most loyal companion. He was fierce, and smart, and the only real competition I had for Rina’s love.”

Idrina chuckled through her shining eyes at that.

“But he was also the only one who loved her as much as I did. I remember…” Alistair stopped to clear his throat before continuing, emotion breaking up the steadiness of his voice. “Fenn used to wedge himself between Rina and I every time we went to sleep. He wasn’t a fan of sharing.”

She nodded, stepping up to Alistair’s side, leaning into him. “He gave up his jealous rages when he realized you were here to stay.”

“But not before dragging all my knickers out of the tent and into the mud.”

They giggled at that; she tightened her hold on his arm. “Remember when he left a half-dead rabbit in Morrigan’s tent?”

“I don’t know that I ever laughed so hard.” Alistair pressed a soft kiss into her forehead. “He was truly one of us.”

“One of us,” she murmured.

“He lived the best life you could’ve gave him. And he got chubby in the end, probably from the table scraps all the servants fed him. He was a manipulative mutt.”

She rubbed her damp cheeks into the fabric of his shirt. “He was the best of us. And I’ll miss him, more than anyone.” She let go of Alistair to kneel in front of the sword, holding her lips to the cold steel of the sword. “I hope the Maker appreciates what a special dog you are.” Fresh sobs left her shivering. “I love you, old friend. Know that no one will ever replace you.”

Alistair kneeled beside her, head resting against her back as he held her until she calmed enough for them to leave.

The bedroom felt emptier that night.


End file.
